#and yes he wears black skinny jeans

[somethingexcessivelyphallic]

having sex with a guy who only wears the tightest possible skinny jeans imported directly from 2008 is hilarious. Like bro will be struuuuuuggling to get his pants off at all (and the skinny jeans get even tighter and harder to remove when he has a massive boner lmao) but also trying to take his pants off and still look sexy and not like an idiot (impossible 👀 he always looks ridiculous (but still hot)) and I’ll be just sitting there feeling like a Victorian gentleman waiting for my saucy lil lady to remove her 23+ layers of petticoats and corsets so I can catch but a glimpse of ankle 😩🥵

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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[redsray]

Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.

Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:

Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!

Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?

Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.

Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.

Dick: Never.

Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.

Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.

Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?

Bruce: The very one.

Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:

Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.

Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.

Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?

Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:

Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?

Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.

Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?

Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.

[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]

Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?

Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.

Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.

Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.

Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.

Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:

Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.

Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.

Bruce: Thank you, Cass.

Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?

Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.

Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.

Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.

[luviisabella]

would you ever think about writing for shigaraki? Or one of the villains? I love the heroes but there's just something about this skinny man when he's half naked that makes me FERAL.

Yes I do !! Ironically my favorite mha villain IS Shigaraki, he is soooooo fine. Especially in the episode where they break him out of the glass tube and he was in that black suit. I had to rewind 🤭

So so happy to write for this man, thank you bby for the ask 💗

- author

Tomura never wears a shirt. It’s so common and normal to see him walking around in sweats, a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, and those stupid fuzzy sandals Dabi got him one year for Christmas. (He burned his other shoes so he has to wear them)

It was an unusual hot day and everyone was melting, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while groaning at the thought of even moving a finger. You were wearing small jean shorts, a tank top and your hair was up out of your face. You were scrolling on tik tok before getting a notification..

[Tomu]: hey

[Tomu]: bring me a water

[Tomu]: please.

You groaned before getting up off the couch to bring him a drink from the fridge, he had been in his room for hours on end. I mean to be fair it did have the best air conditioning but nothing to as stopping him from getting it himself. You opened the fridge and grabbed the water, it was freezing. You looked around before opening it and taking a small sip, it’s not like he’d notice anyways, and plus you’re doing him the favor of bringing it to him.

You close it tight before exhaling in sudden relief at the cold sensation spreading throughout your body. You stretched your arms above your head, now revealing your pelvic bone before reaching for the drink and heading to his room.

You knock on the door.

“Im coming in.” It was good to give warnings , one time you walked in on him changing and weren’t able to look him in the eye for about a week. He didn’t mind whether you knocked or not, it’s not like he had anything to hide.

You open the door and to no surprise he’s sitting and rotting away in his gaming chair. The room was cold though, it was so nice.

You take in his messy figure, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the buttons on the controller, his jawline and side profile looked amazing from this angle, and his-

“Thanks.”

The response broke you out of your daze as you let go of the water bottle after having placed it on his desk.

“Yeah no problem” and you look at a poster on the wall that you could have sworn to of recognized when you went out to the mall last week.

What you didn’t notice was him taking in your figure. Since it was hot you wore a tank top with nothing to cover underneath.. and since his room was cold, it prominently revealed your nipples to his field of his vision. Now he was fully looking at you. Your little shorts, the slight sweat between your thighs, how your shirt is slightly rising up, the sweat dripping from your jawline and how your hair is a bit messy but cute.

You look back at him and he’s just playing the game.

“Did you need anything else ?” you place your hand on your hip as you talk to him.

He shook his head.

“Okay well I’ll be out there if you need me.” And with that you turn away and head to the door, until a sudden tug against your belt loop on your shorts pulls you back.

“Tomura ??” You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows only for them to sprint up when you realize what he was going to say.

“Did you take a sip of the water ?”

his voice was low, it didn’t indicate that he was mad, just curious.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head..

But before you could explain his tall figure was now hovering over you. Your back pressed against his desk and his hands on both sides. On any other day he would’ve let you walk away with it but he was in a bad mood, especially with this heat.

“Tomura-?“

his hand on your hip tugging you close to him was enough to make your knees weak, this was a different side of him, and the dirty smirk on his face was only making the heat between your legs grow.

—

“Since you wanna take a sip of my drink I might as well give you a real reason to be hot.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

Jeff the killer SFW & NSFW headcannon’s:

SFW:

-ahh yes our lil emo boy who played with fire

-100% does not believe in haircuts. you will have to be the one to force him

-if you let him he will live off of beef jerky and dr pepper

-only finds showering necessary when he's soaked in blood, which just so happens to be almost every night. so TECHNICALLY jeff is clean but not because of regular hygiene ideals

-certified yapper. finds himself having the most in common with ben, but has a tendency to hangout with EJ, its more along the line of opposites attract kinda thing

-loves rock/alternative/'emo' music. room is covered in band posters and everything is black

-his cheeks remain raw and uncut, they never heal/scar. he constantly has to use eye drops and uses a wet washcloth to cover his eyes when he sleeps

-speaking of sleep, is lowkey an insomniac. hes got loads of unaddressed trauma, he has lots of night terrors and prefers to stay awake if possible

-slept with jane once when they were teenagers, its how he lost his v card. (she thinks he was absolutely terrible in bed, thus why he will never admit this to anyone and claims he was drunk)

-LIVES in hoodies. you will never find this man in another form of clothing. skinny jeans and basketball shorts are his go to

-liu stays at the Trenderman mansion, so he never sees him. he never has to address his guilt or remorse, and he prefers it that way.

-tries to be a great big brother to sally, since he was a shitty one to liu

NSFW:

-knife kink, obviously

-however I dont think Jeff has a blood kink. despite public belief, jeff IS a horndog, but only has the confidence to actually hook up with someone he cares about. he'd love to see you hurt but in other ways <3

-choking, spitting, bruises, slapping, and hair pulling are on the roster

-with his knife he likes to tease you with it. watching goosebumps raise across your skin and the hair on the back of your neck stand up is erotic as fuck for him.

-'Shh, don't move. Might nip ya'

-I think its fairly obvious Jeff's a rough dom, his egotistical attitude not faltering in the bedroom. there is nothing soft about jeff and his love making skills

-however that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to fuck you senseless

-‘your whimpers are so cute doll’

-likes to manhandle you. fucking you against walls, the floor. hes like a rabid dog

-jeff has a high sex drive. he could go without nutting for a day but that’s about it

-likes to nibble at your earlobe. the way your body melts under his is intoxicating

-prefers to receive rather than give. something about face fucking you and abusing your tiny little throat sends him into a feral frenzy

-‘fuckin take it slut. swallow it all’

-prefers pounding you into the mattress, your face buried in the sheets. he likes to grip your hair while you struggle to breathe against the sheets as he fucks you raw

-refuses to wear a condom but steals you lots of birth control and plan b. he refuses to procreate‼️

[onceuponastory]

shopping spree

Plot: To fully enter the modern world, Bucky decides to switch up his wardrobe first, starting with some jeans. Unfortunately, he has no idea where to start with all the new trends and styles... but the sales assistant Y/N is more than happy to help. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader sort of Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky feeling like a man out of time and out of his depth. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: So I saw an anon on @anothersebastianblog mention that they wanted to see Bucky shopping for skinny jeans, and it gave me some inspo, so here we are! Also I wrote most on this on the bus to work after being up since 4am so....sorry if it makes 0 sense

Bucky stands with his arms crossed, jaw clenched. This is a nightmare. He should never have done this. Ever since he got his life back, he’s decided to try to fit in more, rather than being seen as an Avenger for the rest of his life. And since Sam constantly brings up his ‘dark and depressing’ wardrobe, his first step will be to make a change by updating his clothes. Starting with jeans.

Initially, it sounded like a great idea. But now, he’s completely lost, and doesn’t know where to start.

In front of him, various styles and colours are displayed. Ones that flare slightly at the bottom that look like something he saw in the 70s, more loose fits, and ones that look so tight, he would need to be cut out of them.

And are those…holes?

“Why the hell are they selling these things half finished?” Bucky grunts to himself.

Where is he even going to start?

How is he even going to start?

Maybe he should’ve just got Sam to show him online, or stuck with what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. This was a terrible idea and-

“Can I help you find something?” A voice asks, cutting through his stream of thoughts. 

Bucky turns to see a sales assistant smiling at him. But it’s not an overly fake smile like someone desperate for a sale. No, she seems like she genuinely wants to help him.

And for the first time that day, Bucky Barnes can relax.

“Yes, please. I’m a little lost.” He admits, his gaze flickering to the floor so he doesn’t see her reaction. Despite his big, tough and grumpy exterior… all Bucky wants is to feel like he belongs. Even though he’s an Avenger, he has never felt more lost and out of place. After being a man out of time for decades, placed in and out of cryosleep, he’s completely oblivious to what the modern world is like nowadays. And of course, being blipped didn’t help either. “I just don’t know what’s cool with the kids nowadays.” He sighs.

Y/N frowns. This man doesn’t even look that old, probably mid thirties. Definitely not old enough to say something like that. But he does look lost, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bad for him. 

He is very cute though - with gorgeous silvery blue eyes, his short brown hair and stubble. She can also see muscles straining through his shirt, despite the jacket and…gloves? It’s enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, that depends.” She begins. “Nowadays, it’s more what you want to wear, rather than what’s ’cool with the kids’.” She chuckles. 

For a moment, Bucky frowns, expecting to be the butt of the joke. Instead, it’s the opposite. She’s laughing with him, making him feel comfortable. Bucky smiles, something in his gut fluttering.

“Thanks…” he glances at her name tag. “Y/N. I’m Bucky.”

“I love the way he says my name. And he has a lovely smile.” Y/N thinks. “Well, Bucky, I’ll show you our most popular styles and we can go from there.” Bucky nods. “Any colour ideas?”

“Black.” He answers quickly. Y/N nods. 

“A man after my own heart.” Bucky smiles. He wonders what it’d be like to know her in real life, outside of her job. To have a friend, one who isn’t an Avenger. A regular, normal civilian.

But just as he thinks that, has one moment of hope, it’s quickly squashed by his anxiety. “She’s just being polite to help you. She probably doesn’t even care about you that much. Nobody does.”

“You okay?” Y/N asks softly, bringing him back down to earth once again. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He lies. This poor sales assistant definitely doesn’t get paid enough to hear all his woes.

Y/N nods, pulling out the first pair of jeans. “These are slightly baggy, and they’re really comfortable.” She says. “What do you think?”

“Uh….” He murmurs, still feeling completely out of his depth. “Maybe not yet.”

Next, a pair of skinny jeans. “It’s entirely up to you,” Y/N insists. “but these are definitely our most popular, and they’re always in fashion.”

“And they’re not… too skinny?” Bucky asks. Y/N shakes her head. 

“Nope, they’re nice and comfy.”

Honestly, the more Bucky thinks about it, the more he trusts Y/N and her judgment. So, he nods, and she adds them to the pile. 

She pulls out another pair, one with rips all over the legs. Bucky frowns. “Those aren’t even finished! They’re destroyed.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No! That’s the style. Very…rock and roll, I guess?”

“You’re serious? People wear jeans like this?”

“Deadly.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Not for me.”

“I think you’d suit them.” She admits, smiling. “Maybe not as many…extreme rips, but we have ones with just rips at the knees.” She suggests, holding up a pair. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Bucky frowns, thinking it over. Originally, it was a hard no. But Y/N does recommend them, and Sam said to try new things. And they don’t look that bad.

“Okay. Just cause I trust you.” He says, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Y/N’s grin widens, a sight that sets him off too. “Aw, thanks Bucky.”

~ * ~

“Ready?” Y/N asks, leaning against the changing room wall.

“Almost!” Bucky calls. The door opens, and he steps out. He’s in a pair of basic black skinny jeans.

“How are they? How do you feel?”

“I feel…great!” Bucky grins, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks so happy, so confident, that Y/N can’t help but smile just as wide as him. 

He turns, admiring the way he looks. Y/N can’t help but let her eyes drift lower. His ass looks incredible in the jeans, and she can’t help but feel her cheeks heating up. He’s gorgeous. “What do you think?” Bucky asks, oblivious to her staring.

Or at least she hopes he is.

“Y-Yeah.” She stammers. “You look incredible.”

~ * ~

After trying on all his picks, Bucky and Y/N go to pay. “Thank you so much for this.” Bucky says. “You really helped me feel a lot more comfortable and confident with this whole thing.”

“Not at all.” She chuckles. “It was my pleasure.”

Y/N rings up his jeans, and Bucky watches her. Maybe he could ask if they want to hang sometime? No, that’s creepy. She’s just doing her job, not flirting. She doesn’t even feel the same about him.

“Can I get your number?” She smiles. Bucky goes red. Or maybe she does feel the same.

“I mean, we just met, but if you wanna…..” He stammers, pulling out his phone. Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh, not like that.” She gasps quickly. Immediately, Bucky's heart sinks. “I just mean it’s for our rewards program. When you give us your phone number, you receive points each time you shop. After a while, you get a discount. It’s a good deal.”

Right then, Bucky wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh! Oh, I-I mean…sure.” His skin is burning with embarrassment now, and he can’t wait to pay and get this over with.

Despite the second hand embarrassment flowing through her veins, the look on Bucky’s face makes Y/N’s face soften.

Honestly, she would give him her number. He may be just a customer, but there’s something different about him, something that seems to pull her closer to him.

“There you go.” Bucky quickly pays and takes the bag, ready to get out of here and home to Alpine. As he walks away, Y/N sighs. “Bye, Bucky.”

~ * ~

Later that day, Bucky takes out his new jeans. Alpine curls up in the empty shopping bag, swatting at the receipt. “Hey!” Bucky chuckles, pulling it away. “That’s not yours, buddy.”

As he lifts it up to put it away, trying to dodge his cat’s claws, Bucky spots something. A note is scribbled on the back of the receipt: 

Hope to see you again soon, Bucky. If you ever need style advice, you know where to find me. Y/N :)

Bucky grins, placing the receipt down.

He was looking for some new t-shirts, funnily enough.

~ * ~

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[leodette]

could u write Lando with an older woman? who maybe already has a kid, or at least with a small child is in her company? thanx <3

Hello, sure I can! The woman is around 30, and since there are no more instructions, the child that accompanies her is her nephew!

I Never Wanna See You Walk Away | LN4

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: Lando takes Mila to the zoo

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man)

requested: yes / no

**********

“Mila! Mila please wait for me!” Lando yelled after his little niece who zoomed away from him on her bright pink scooter, laughing at her uncle’s attempts to catch her.

Lando had a rare moment of peace in his busy season, which allowed him to go home to Bristol for a few days, to see his parents and siblings. And because he was gone so often, hell he lived in a different country, he offered Oliver that he would take Mila in the late morning for a little ‘date’ to Bristol zoo, allowing his brother and Savannah some time with their newborn Athena.

What he didn’t count though was the energy hiding in Mila’s little body, and also the fact that she didn’t care if her ‘Uncle Lala’ was able to match his steps with her excitement.

So he was basically running after the child, trying not to gain too much attention. He was happy to not only have a break to see his family, but also not to be in public eye that much and that often.

He passed by lions and giraffes, his eyes firmly locked on Mila’s yellow jacket in desperate need to not loose her from his sight. A group of people suddenly appeared in her way, and Mila, startled, turned and ran her scooter straight into another child, both kids falling on the ground.

“Shit,” Lando sweared when he heard Mila’s high-pitched cry, running the last few paces and crouching next to her. She has laying in her stomach, the scooter next to her, partly crushed under her, the sleeves of her jacket dirty with mud, and her eyes shining with tears.

“Oh no no no, don’t cry darling, don’t,” Lando carefully lifted her, helping her to stand up and started to look for any kind of injury. In the whole mess, he completely forgot about the boy that Mila crashed into. Said young child was standing up, his hair messy and wet with a dirty water from the puddle that he fell into, the bottoms of his pants dirty. His eyes were shinning with tears, but he seemed desperately determined not to cry. Lando thought he could be around five.

“Buddy? What happened?!” a voice sounded behind them, and Lando turned to see a stunning woman with alarmed face expression. She was wearing black skinny jeans, cute boots on a small heel with a bow in the back, and a long maroon raincoat. Long haired pulled in a messy bun, and horrified look as she knelt next to the young boy, checking him in the similar way he was checking Mila.

“What happened, buddy?” she hugged him closer to her, caressing his cheek and wiping the lonely tear in his cheek. Mila though continued to cry loudly in Lando’s arms, him not being able to comfort her.

“That girl ran into m-me with her sco-scooter, those pe-people there sca-scared her,” the boy let out a few sobs, pointing first at Mila and then at the group of people that calmly walked away, clearly not aware of two crying children behind them.

“Okay, that’s okay, nothing happened,” the woman pressed a small kiss on boy’s forehead, smoothing his hair down.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” she checked, and when he shook his head negative, she turned her eyes to Lando and Mila. Lando expected her started screaming at him for not being careful, but she just smiled slightly.

“And you sweetheart? Are you okay?” she asked Mila, patting her hair. The little girl was watching her warily, still sniffling the ugly tears away, but she shook her head.

“Good. That is good. C’mon, there is no need to cry, okay? Things like this happen, the most important thing is that you are not hurt,” she smiled, and to Lando’s absolute surprise Mila squirmed out of his arms and flew herself at the woman. She quickly closed her arms around the little girl, before motioning with her hand for he boy who squeezed himself next to Mila, cuddling closer to the woman that Lando still didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I lost an eyesight of her for only a second,” he apologized and stood up, looming over the most unusual trio anyone could imagine. He earned only a smile and a shake of head.

“Nothing bad happened, right? They’re both okay, maybe little startled, but that comes with life,” she gently eased herself out of Mila’s grid, standing up as well, her hands in each of the kids heads.

“Although we can’t tell your Mum, buddy, otherwise she would have Auntie’s neck for that,” she winked at the boy who gave her a big smile back, one of his front teeth missing but not from the collision.

“Okay, so since they both are fine, I guess we should go,” she patted Mila’s hair and let her go, grabbing the boy’s hand. But Lando’s niece had nothing out of it, running it her and grabbing her hand with the determination only toddlers posses.

“No, come with,” she stomped her foot, the last reminders of a crying fit moments ago long forgotten.

The woman looked at her with wide eyes, before bashfully smiling at Lando and turning back to Mila.

“Do you want to go to take a look at the animals with us?” she asked, making Mila nod with all seriousness.

“Yef, animalf,” she pointed towards the nearby camel, and the woman chuckled.

“Well, if your Papa has nothing against it, you can come with me and Maxie here,” she motioned to the boy who smiled at Lando’s niece.

“Oh I’m not her dad, merely an uncle,” the McLaren driver quickly corrected her, feeling a blush warming his cheeks. She was gorgeous. Clearly older than him, probably closer to thirty than to twenty, but the classic elegance and kindness made his stomach tighten and his hands sweat.

“Well, there is nothing like ‘merely an uncle’. You’re basically her Dad in proxy now,” she smiled at him, before offering her hand and introducing herself.

“Oh, eee… Bob. I’m Bob, and this little spitfire here is Mila,” he motioned to the girl who was already standing at the fence together with Maxie, both of them watching the three camels inside with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry again for the incident,” he apologized again but she only waved her hand.

“As I said, nothing happened. No broken bones or knocked out teeth.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the kids, before Max turned to his aunt.

“Auntie, can we get some snack?” he asked, his puppy eyes out in all force, making the woman roll hers before smiling gently.

“I guess we can. Want to come with us?” she asked Lando, who after a few seconds nodded. It wouldn’t hurt neither of them.

“Sure, why not. But,” he raised his finger, “I will pay.”

That earned him a chuckle from her and excited yells from the kids, and Lando offered her his elbow which she accepted before smirking.

“Well, I guess driving fast cars in circles earns some nice paycheck, right?” she added like it was nothing. But that little comment made Lando sweat, and not in a nice way. Looking at his horrified face she started laughing.

“We’re in Bristol, Mister Norris. You’re a superstar here,” she patted his arm gently.

“Don’t worry though. If you don’t say who you are, I will not. Now, off to the snack! Max wanted those strawberry pancakes they have in the bistro!” she pulled him with her like they knew each other for years, Mila and Maxie walking in front of them, the boy helping his new friend with her scooter.

And Lando? Once the shock from the realization that she knew him disappeared, he relaxed, and maybe… maybe a small hope for leaving with her number in his phone by the end of the day entered his mind.

Next

[lightless-flame-official]

gerry keay (classic flavor):

skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life

eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers

his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:

- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.

- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.

- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.

- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.

he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.

black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.

we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.

the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.

sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.

he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.

gerry keay (tmagp):

goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.

we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!

no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.

the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.

loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."

he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.

his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.

there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.

[adore-laur]

GET MINE, GET YOURS

— your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and you still jump his bones on occasion ❤️‍🔥

——

2004

Heavy raindrops cascade off the roof of the mechanic shop, its metal shingles mottled with splotches of orange rust. The sight forms tight knots in your stomach as dreary storm clouds loom over the town. You stall outside for another minute, soaked pebbles crunching under the soles of your shoes as you pace near your car. 

After exhaling a quelling breath and rolling your shoulders back, you slowly walk toward the half-closed garage. Harry is running the shop all by himself this afternoon, working gruesome nine-to-fives just about every day of the week. You don't know how he does it, so you try to visit and keep him company once in a while.

Today, however, is different. The brakes on your car have been squeaking incessantly, and you know jack squat about anything car-related, so you had no choice but to ask your ex-boyfriend for help. 

Yes, your ex-boyfriend.

You would honestly rather listen to him drone on about all the intricate parts of an automobile than some wise guy who makes you feel stupid when you confusedly nod along and attempt to ask clarifying questions. Harry is much nicer about it. He simplifies terms for you while your mind drifts away to things much more interesting than the anatomy of axels and tires. For example, Harry's pink lips or the beautiful veins protruding from the backs of his hands.

You've gone to him with car problems before, but you mostly visit to hang out with him. It's never awkward since the breakup was mutual, and you are still on good terms. Plus, you find contentment in the routine of bringing him fast food and talking his ear off while he does the strenuous work. 

And so what if you still fuck him on the down-low?

There's nothing wrong with having no strings attached, especially since he gives you heavenly sexual experiences each and every time. It's not like it's a weekly thing, either. It's just that whenever you cross paths with him, it always ends up with his body hovering over yours and his cross necklace dangling above your bare chest. 

Unfortunately, you're not in the mood for that right now. The stress caused by your shitty car and having to probably pay a hefty amount of cash just to be able to safely drive anywhere has quickly turned your day sour. 

As you duck your head to enter the garage, the smell of rubber and oil instantly permeates your senses. The plug-in air freshener on the wall is doing the absolute bare minimum. Soft bass creeps into your eardrums, and a groovy R&B track plays from Harry's boombox sitting beside his reliable red toolbox. You grin and roll your eyes when you recognize the eminent growl of Christina Aguilera coming through the speakers. You're greeted with a song you'd never expect him to listen to whenever you visit. 

Turning your head to the left, you spot Harry working under a beat-up vintage Cadillac. He's lying down on a roller with his knees bent, metal clinking from whatever he's fixing. The black skinny jeans he's wearing are faded, and he's not wearing any shoes for some risky reason; only white socks cover his feet. 

"Hi, baby." Harry's voice rumbles, jolting you. You've told him to stop calling you that, but it falls on deaf ears every time. 

"How'd you know it was me?" you ask, running your fingertips across a stray wrench. 

He laughs huskily. "I can see your dirty ass sneakers from under here."

Before you can defend your mud-stained shoes, his hands grip the bottom edge of the car as he rolls himself out from underneath, revealing his face decorated with smears of grease and his long hair tied into a bun. It's been two weeks since you saw him last, give or take, and you swear he gets more physically buff each time. His biceps are practically bulging as he wipes beading sweat from his forehead, the sheened muscles filling out his grubby uniform deliciously.

You break away from your lustful trance and nod your head toward his boombox. "Stripped on cassette, huh? You keep on surprising me." 

"Is there a problem?" He slings a soiled rag over his shoulder.

"No, not at all," you reply lightheartedly. "It just isn't really a manly record to fix cars to." 

He teasingly sticks his tongue out and saunters over to you, bending down a bit before wrapping one arm around your waist and lifting you in a firm embrace. His mouth breathes warm air against your neck, and you can smell the spearmint gum he's been chewing.

"Came to visit me?" he murmurs as he gently sets you down, keeping a firm grip on your hip and hooking his middle finger through your belt loop. 

You pout and tell him, "My car is broken." 

He mimics your expression. "Yeah? What happened?" 

"I was driving home from the grocery store, and the brakes started squeaking out of nowhere." 

Harry stops smacking his gum and furrows his eyebrows. "And you drove all the way here without calling me?"

You grimace. "Please don't be mad." 

"You're not supposed to keep driving when your brakes are acting up," he says seriously. "You know better." 

"I didn't want to make you leave work," you reply, fidgeting with your hands. 

He softly tuts while flinging the rag somewhere behind him. "I would've come and gotten you if you had asked." 

You just shrug helplessly and look around the garage, admiring Harry's workspace, which completely encapsulates his personality, even though he shares the space with a coworker most days. Various cassettes are stacked haphazardly on a shelf, ranging from girl groups to classic rock to spa music for meditation purposes. He has an opened bag of organic potato chips on his workbench, the brand he always buys from the gas station just down the road. There's also a shallow pottery bowl in the corner where he puts his rings so they don't touch oil. 

He's a moody motherfucker, but you know all of his soft spots. 

"I'm guessing I'll be spending the entirety of my last paycheck on the repair," you mutter while wandering around, picking up random tools. 

Harry leans back against the car he's working on and crosses his arms. "It'll probably cost around two hundred dollars to replace the brake pad," he says. 

"What the hell?" you say incredulously. "You need to talk to your boss about lowering the prices around here." 

"I am the boss."

"Oh, that's right."

He laughs through his nose. "Negotiate with me about it, then. Convince me to lower the price." 

You stop in your tracks and stare at him, unimpressed with the upper hand he tries to have over you. "Nope. I'm not doing that." 

"Why not?" he asks. "C'mon, I'm bored out of my mind." 

You groan and stride over to stand in front of him. He's so hard to resist. "Fine. Will you please give me a discount?" 

Harry drags out a monotonous hum before plainly saying, "No." 

Standing on your tiptoes, you touch your nose to his and whisper, "Pretty please?" 

He narrows his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against yours. "You're getting warmer." 

"I'll help you fix my car," you plead, willing to do anything to save a little money. "I'm really good at following instructions." 

"You are, sweetheart, but absolutely not." 

You frown and bury your face in his neck. He's sweaty, yet there's a hint of some pine-scented cologne coming through that drives you insane. "If I let you fuck me," you suggest boldly, leaving a slow kiss near his pulse point, "will you give me a discount?" 

Harry moves his head to look at you straight on, smiling smugly and using his teeth to stretch his gum across the tip of his tongue. "That's more like it." 

"But don't you have a car to fix right now?" you ask, feigning innocence to get under his skin. 

"Baby," he murmurs, "you can't come here and expect me to actually get work done. You're too distracting." 

You pinch his thigh through his jeans. "Stop calling me that." 

"No," he says softly. "You're still my baby." 

"Not anymore." 

"Then no discount for you." 

You scoff and step away from him. "Stop being a jerk, Harry." 

"Letting me fuck you just for a discount, hmm? Is that it?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You know I'd let you fuck me anyway," you admit under your breath. 

The muscles in his jaw twitch. "God, you give me whiplash." 

You get up in his face and say, "Yeah, well, you give me a headache."

His hand quickly reaches out to push the back of your head toward him, messily smearing his lips against yours. "I hate when you're like this," he mumbles into your mouth. "My baby's so stubborn when she doesn't get her way, isn't she?" 

You bite his bottom lip and tug on it before releasing it. "Don't want to be your baby." 

His hand gravitates toward the curve of your ass, squeezing just once. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want to be your brat."

Harry's head tilts as he visibly swallows. "Get on the couch," he orders lowly. "Face down, ass up." 

You grin, pleased to the max, and stroll over to the black leather couch in the back while Harry shuts the garage door for privacy. The screech of the lock makes you wince, and the sound of the pelting rain becomes muffled. The continuous drops on the roof match the speed of your racing heart. 

Placing your forearms on the cold, cracked leather, you bend your knees to get into position and tilt your head so your cheek rests on the cushion. Harry swiftly removes his hairband, his curls messily falling past his shoulders. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his swallow tattoos and chest hair, both slick with sweat. His cross pendant rests perfectly against his skin as he comes up beside you and leisurely trails his fingers down your spine until they reach the waistband of your low-rise bell bottoms. 

Goosebumps erupt across your arms when his other hand goes to unbutton his skinny jeans. You can see his bulge strain against the tight material, and it makes you squirm impatiently. 

"Sit still," Harry says, pulling down his jeans. His black boxers and thigh tattoo are now directly in front of you. 

You pitifully moan when he crouches and grabs your wrists to place them behind your back. "Not fair," you grumble. 

"Oh, really? It's not fair that I'm about to fuck you." 

"You know what I mean." 

Harry tugs down your pants and underwear in one go, the material bunching at the back of your knees. He then takes his boxers off, placing one knee on the cushion and lining himself up as he grips the top of the couch to stay balanced. 

"Still on birth control?" he asks, planting a quick kiss on your shoulder blade. The cold metal of his necklace against your skin sends an avalanche of chills down the length of your spine. 

You nod, and Harry immediately thrusts into you. You gasp as the burning sensation spreads like wildfire all the way to your thighs, your hands clenching into tight fists as he continuously rocks deep strokes in and out. You whimper with each one, and Harry's hand holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail to watch every pleasurable change of expression on your face. 

"You good?" He pants while slowing down his thrusts, keeping them long and purposeful. 

"I want to touch you."

His hips pound into your backside. "Yeah? Where do you want to touch me?" 

"Anywhere, just please let me." 

"I didn't know brats begged like whores," he says, tugging your hair. 

You wiggle your fingers behind your back, trying to touch his stomach, but it's to no avail. Harry stops thrusting, his hair hanging over his face as he looks down at you. "Want it that bad?" he says in awe.

You muster up fake tears and nod pathetically to get your way. "Please, daddy." 

It always works like a charm. Harry grunts and instantly pulls out, hastily sitting on the couch with his legs spread and grabbing your waist to make you straddle him. 

You kick off your pants and underwear the rest of the way, along with your shoes, then sink down on his cock, slowly grinding on him with your hands in his hair. You want to touch him everywhere, so you rub your palms down his chest and then hold both of his hands as you arch your back and tilt your head up toward the ceiling rafters. The new position tightens your orgasm more quickly, and the way Harry is desperately moaning with his hands clutching your thighs causes heat to prickle all over your body. 

"Such a pretty brat for me, right?" Harry praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. "Getting your way like you always do." 

"Mm-hmm," you hum, every grind making your stomach rub against his, all sweat and smooth skin. "Only for you." 

He nips love bites along your collarbone. "It fuckin' better be. I don't want you doing this with anyone else." 

"And what if I do?" you ask, the slickness of your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs. 

Harry opens his mouth with a scoffed moan when you circle your hips. "Th-think I'd die from jealousy." 

The fact that you got him to stutter makes you grind faster until his jaw is clenched and he's clawing scratches on your back. "What's there to be jealous about?" 

"That they get to stuff this tight pussy, and I don't." His eyes roll back as he starts to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

Not only is he a moody motherfucker, but he's a filthy one too. 

"You're doing it right now, though," you say, and Harry nods briskly. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"But I want to be the only one." 

"I know." You suddenly choke out a moan when your orgasm approaches. "I'm gonna come, Harry. Oh, God..."

"Me too," he says, his chest heaving. "Give me a good one, baby." 

You hold onto his shoulders and tense your thighs while you release, Harry stilling as well as his hips jerk to meet yours. You feel him fill you up, and after he runs himself dry, you fall against his body from exhaustion, whining into his neck as the pleasure consumes you. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a lazy hug while his cock slowly softens inside you. 

The rain pours outside, and the ambiance calms you down while your body relaxes. It reminds you of a time when things were easier, a time without complicated feelings or unresolved issues. 

Harry abruptly begins giggling, his chest raising with each breathy laugh. You join in, but you don't necessarily understand what's so funny. You lift your head to see deep dimples carved into his cheeks and the devastatingly gorgeous crinkles near his eyes. 

Once his laughter dies down, he says, "We just orgasmed at the same time to "Beautiful" by Xtina." 

"No way," you reply, breaking into more giggles. 

Harry starts cackling as the dramatic piano ballad plays from the boombox, possibly the worst song to listen to while having sex. It's so ridiculous that tears form in your eyes and your sides start hurting from laughing so hard. 

"We also just fucked with our socks on," Harry adds, resting his covered feet on the couch and wiggling his toes.

"Sexy." 

"Super sexy. And quite comfortable." 

You smile and glance at his lips, feeling an intense urge to kiss them, but you know you shouldn't. As soft as they look, it would only make things more complicated. Well, besides the fact that you still have sex with him. You're okay with the equal exchange of satisfaction, even though the emotional boundaries seem to blur more and more each time. 

"You can kiss me," Harry whispers. 

You swallow and shake your head, playing with the ends of his curls. "That's not what we do anymore. I get mine, and you get yours, remember? That's it." 

"You let me kiss you earlier," he points out. 

"That was a different kind of kiss." 

He just makes a disappointed face and lifts your hips so he can pull out. He then stands still, holding you with one arm, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks over to the boombox. 

"What should we listen to next?" he asks in your ear, delicately pressing a button to remove the black and white cassette. 

You tilt your head sideways and read the names on the stack of cassettes. "Hmm... how about Time and Form: Celestial Meditation? Sounds like the perfect soundtrack for aftercare." 

Harry snorts. "Shut up." 

You laugh and dig your heels into his lower back, wanting to be even closer to his bare skin. The full-fledged urge to kiss him returns again, this time with a bizarre wave of sadness. 

You can't. He's your ex. 

It would cross the line that was never really there in the first place, but it's a faint one, and it still matters. To you, to him, and to the stakes of what you are to each other. Yet you spend days and nights lying in bed, wondering if he'll call you on the old wall phone at the shop and ask you to come over just because. Or when he tells you he missed you when you do show up, hugging you tight and thanking you for lunch. Or when he's glum and sulky to everyone else but you, his face immediately lights up when you step into the room. 

It all means something, but you'll never allow it to become more than that. Just fleeting moments make up for the emptiness you felt when you stopped being romantically involved with him. It quells the ache, but only in real-time. Afterward, you go home to the apartment you live in by yourself, wishing he could follow you there and stay with you like he used to. 

You didn't cry when you broke up with him because you knew there would still be some sort of relationship present, even though it wouldn't involve dating. That's when you both agreed to keep having sex without the strings attached; however, the buried feelings you have always seem to burst into uncontrollable flames when he touches you. You'll never admit it, though, because a purely physical relationship with him is better than not having one at all. 

It'd be a shame to lose the fire where the smoke is. 

——

[blogfullofemos]

My Look Precedes Me

Based from this picture:

Synopsis: You're sitting on Eddie's bed with nothing but homework dispersed around you. And well... Baby has been in the corner... FOR FAR TOO LONG!!!

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: explicit words and a lot of angst. Italics is for flashbacks. I also believe that Eddie is very anxiety ridden, like moi. So yeah. Do what you will with that lol. Also has been proofread multiple times. (I wanna give you the best of the best okay 🥲)

Pairing: Eddie Munson + female reader

Lastly thank you so so so so so much for the shockingly amazing amount of feedback I received on my last 2 Eddie Munson blurbs. Thank you for the hearts, reblogs, and follows. Also I love the commentary cuz yes this man indeed drives me feral. But at times, he's just like me. 😭 Enjoy and let me know how you feel darling.

Eddie’s antsy. Eddie’s pissed. Better yet, if he has to deal with this any longer!! Eddie’s going to bring the upside down, downside up!! Or however the fuck they would reverse it. Sitting on a bean bag at the corner of his room, Eddie blatantly stares at you with furrowed brows. Wearing nothing but his favorite, black-ripped skinny jeans, his right leg bounces rapidly. His guitar resting still from the action as his hands fidgets all around it. Rolling his brown eyes, he presses his hand against his bottom lip to bite at the skin. Trying his best to distract himself from his fuming impatience. 

     For 2 and a half weeks, you’ve been…. Distant. And with no reason. The first week you started to make conversations between you two short, didn’t acknowledge when he wanted to make you the priority, and lastly you didn’t answer his phone calls. At all. You’re his girlfriend, right? Obsessively he checked if you still sported his guitar pick necklace. His heart finding some semblance of solace, as he watched your habit of twirling the pick between your fingers when talking to others, never stopped. 

“Hey… Uh-umm are we o-okay?” he asks shakily. With his hands in his pockets, he picks at the skin on his fingers. Clammy, heart burning, and thoughts racing for the worst; he kept his focus trained on the gravel crunch of his shoes. Never wanting you to see the fear anticipating to implode if his assumptions rang true. “You’re too in your head, Eds.” you giggle softly. Trying to break the unnerving silence, you scatter tiny rocks with a kick but nothing changes. You give it a few more steps. “Eddie?” you say, looking beside you with worry. Taken aback, you whip your head to look behind you. With a 4ft distance, Eddie stood still. His curls lightly drift with the wind as his head remains drooped. ‘Then why didn’t you notice I stopped? You must be in your head too.’ he thinks as a sniffle betrays him. In an instant, he hears you drop the scholarly books you held close to you and run towards him. “Eddie, baby..”, “Eds you’ve done nothing wrong..”, “Baby its me, not you okay.” you rush out. And with perfect deflection, you kissed him deeply.

      The 2nd week was pure Hell. You made it your mission to not cross paths anytime during class hours, and when it came to lunch. You would just sit next to him, hold his hand, and if he was lucky you would laugh at a joke he made. Eye contact was the least of your worries.

“Sooo what’s happening here?” Steve abruptly asks as he dips his french fry into ketchup. Sitting across from you at the table, Steve quirks his brow at you as your focus snaps to him. Successfully cutting your convo with Robin down completely.  “What do you mean?” you laugh off.

“Well Lisa needs me.” Robin announces, quickly freeing herself from the table. Your eyebrow raises at her sudden departure, but she just smiles and waves before scurrying to whatever table Lisa is at. Who even is Lisa? You don’t realize Eddie profusely shaking his head at Steve, before smacking his hand on his face as Steve clears his throat. “You and Eddie.” you look at Eddie with confusion. With his hand covering his mouth and nose flared, he just stares at Steve. “Something’s off.” Steve finishes, biting his ketchup covered french fry. Eddie squeezes your intertwined hand with his, needing to break your inquisitive eyes from his teetering restraint. Even if it was just for a moment. Steve chuckles, “I mean…” he takes another bite to a fry “Why are you-?”

“Steve. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Eddie warns, trying his best to keep his hands at where they were.

“No. Munson. It’s… “ Steve slowly pushes the styrofoam plate aside, contemplating his next words wisely. Your eyes searched for what was to come out of Steve's mouth, but he sighs. “You are no Madonna.” Steve points at you, “And YOU!!” he points at Eddie “Are no Sean Penn!!”. In seconds your jaw drops, milk splatters onto Steve as Eddie tosses its small carton at his head, and Steve is now over the table grappling Eddie.

    The taste of iron seeps within his mouth as he recollects himself from his triggering memories. Slapping his hands on each side of his bean bag chair, he shoots himself off of it. Quickly catching his guitar from falling, he swiftly places its strap on his shoulder. “I wrote a song for you.” he says heated, snatching the sheet you were filling out and crumbling it. 

“EDS!!” you yell out in shock, trying to snatch the balled-up paper from him but he puts it in his mouth. Before you could even say anything, he scratches his pick against his guitar strings. The scratchy sounds reverberating throughout his room loudly, since he always has his amp on max. Chewing the paper, he strums a quick solo, spitting the saliva-soaked blob at you. Disgusted you watch him headbang to a heavy riff, “WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME ALONG, SO FUCKING HIGH STRUNG, ANOTHER DAY OF THIS AND WE’LL BE DONE!!” he bursts out, strumming his guitar strings like he was punching it. 

    Your heart sank as he continues the angry riff, his brown eyes twitching as tears slowly begin to creep their way out. “LOVE YOU BUT IT JUST SEEMS TO BE FUN, YEAH EDDIE, THAT’S A GOOD ONE!! DOES SHE LOVE YOU, DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!!” he continues. The vein in his neck protrudes from how loud he was screaming. You nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes welling up, but Eddie didn’t care to stop. Because when did you ever 'cared' to stop? Your intense stare never once faltering as he stalks towards your laid-back body. “CUZ IF SHE WANTS TO UP AND R-.” his voice cracks as his eyes winces, heavy tears running down his cheeks. His nose flares as he struggles to breathe, his hands not keeping up the harsh tempo. Opening his mouth, you scream “MY PARENTS ARE PLANNING TO SEND ME AWAY!!”.

“What?” Steve says, thrown back and silencing his guitar strings eerie screeching. Finally, you explain your past actions followed by a full blown breakdown. Believing you were invincible, your father always seemed to catch you in an act. And this one labelled you his grandest mistake. During a rage fit, “NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE WITH A DRUGGED-OUT LOSER!!” you repeated to Eddie. Causing Eddie to turn away from you, walk a few steps away, and plop on the end of his bed. Your father gave you an ultimatum. If you chose Eddie, he would send you away to live with your great grandmother. Well more like take care of your prudish great-grandmother. But if you chose different, then life goes as usual. And the only way he knew you weren't seeing Eddie, is if you focused on getting your grades up. Eddie looks up to his ceiling, bemused on how oblivious he was in all of this. The puzzle finally putting itself together.

     “BUT- but I choose you Eddie.” you cry, quickly placing your hand on top of his. Eddie stared at the walls while you vented out your frustration, silently crying. He hates your dad. But he understood his smothering defense. If they were to reverse roles, he would've done the same. But God he felt so wrong for placing all of his pent-up rage towards you. It wasn’t you who was pulling away, it was your family prying you off of him. Broken, he finally looks at you with soaked lashes, “A drugged-out loser huh.” he sadly repeats your father’s remark. You pout. Bringing him close, you rest his head on your chest. The strong sound of your heart beat causing him to sob.

As it was the first time he ever heard a precious thing give texture to his ostracized existence.

[kpopsexstories]

Hey! If you accept any Monsta X request; do you think you could do a Top! Wonho x Verse! Hyungwon x Bottom! Male Reader Threesome? Wonho and Hyungwon are an already-stablished couple who find m/r on a bar, they take him home and the action begins; WH and HW take turns on M/R, then they fuck him together and, under M/R's request, they finish off with WH (top) and HW (bottom) fucking (missionary) while M/R jerks off

Never done a Wonho story before. Always wanted to. So absolutely yes, here you go 😄

GAY ONE-SHOT #1: MX Wonho & Hyungwon x Male Reader Threesome

Content Warning! This is a 100% gay story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: Top MX Wonho x Vers MX Hyungwon x Bottom male reader

Content: Wonho & Hyungwon pick up male reader at a bar for a threesome.

Type of Sex: WILD

Word Count: 3.4k

“What about him?” Hyungwon asks and points his pint in the general direction of a passing man.

Wonho chuckles and takes his shot of Jaeger in one go. “Stop it babe,” he says and laughs.

“What? He's cute.”

Wonho turns to look. He can't argue with his boyfriend's statement. His eyes linger on the man while he puts the glass down on the bar desk.

“You're serious about this, aren't you?” he asks and smiles at Hyungwon.

“We had fun last time, didn't we?”

Wonho's expression turns distant, as if he's remembering something that makes him happy.

“Alright,” he says. Then he turns to the bartender: “Two more, please.”

*****

You're by yourself at a table in the corner, looking out across the dimly lit room, your eyes wandering from one face to another. The beer glass in front of you is empty. It's becoming increasingly clear that your date has stood you up.

Two men are sitting by the bar. There's something oddly familiar about them. One is wearing a tightly fitted black t-shirt which showcases his massive muscles, the other a black tank top and an excessive amount of jewelry on his hands and around his neck. They've been eyeing you all night, and your looks have met more than once.

Your heart flutters when the bigger of the two suddenly stands up. His skinny jeans are making their way directly toward you. You can swear you've seen them both before. Maybe they're regulars.

“Hey,” the fit man says and smiles wide. He briefly turns around in the direction of his friend at the bar. “Can we join you?”

You sit up straight and smile back. “Sure,” you say.

Wonho nods at his boyfriend and pulls out a chair. Before you know it you've been chatting with the two men for half an hour, talking and laughing and drinking. You still have no clue who they are or why they look so familiar, but your date can go fuck himself.

When Wonho gets up to go to the bathroom you realize you've been holding it in for too long. When you get up too, Hyungwon quickly follows. There's been an electric spark between the three of you all night, and it only intensifies when you feel his piercing eyes behind you as you all go to pee.

You stand side by side at the urinals, unzipping your pants and taking your dicks out. You stare straight ahead into the wall, desperately fighting the temptation to take a peek. You really struggle with the urge.

Just a quick glance, you think. But when you turn your eyes sideways you realize that Wonho has beaten you to it. He isn't at all discreet about it. He looks up from your crotch and smiles at you as you shake your dick and put it away.

That settles it. The sparks are too strong and you all feel it. Hyungwon has seen your looks and you've finally accepted the fact that he's been flirting with you all night. This gay couple is looking to spice up their sex life, and they've chosen you to do it with.

Hyungwon zips his pants and walks around his boyfriend. He looks directly at you and you get close together as you head for the same sink.

You rub shoulders while washing your hands. Your eyes meet in the mirror, and you see Wonho approaching from behind. None of you have said a word to each other since you entered the bathroom.

When Wonho puts his hand on your waist you can hardly keep it together. You turn your head and see Hyungwon's reassuring smile. Then you both lean in, and begin to kiss.

You make out with Hyungwon in front of the mirror. Wonho's hand on your hip feels stronger, and he quickly begins to explore your body. Hyungwon turns to face his boyfriend and they begin make out, then Wonho turns to you and you kiss with wet lips and sloppy tongues.

You become hard in a heartbeat. The three of you rub close together and explore each other passionately. Seeing the two sexy men make out is an an insane turn-on, and it suddenly feels very obvious that this is what the night has been leading up to since the moment you first lay your eyes on each other across the bar, and they came to join you at your table.

The door suddenly opens. You all quickly take a step away from each other. A man glances at you before he goes to the urinals and pretends like he didn't see anything.

Hyungwon and Wonho's looks say it all. It's time to take this show elsewhere, and there's no doubt in your mind that you'll be going home with them tonight.

You walk in a row through the bar, Hyungwon leading the way. You struggle to keep your hard dick in check, to hide your bulge from the many eyes in the room. You pass the table you once sat at, and a lone man who spots you and is about to stand up to say hello. You don't even notice that he's there.

*****

The couple lives in a relatively fancy apartment complex. Their place is not big, but modern and tastefully decorated. You briefly wonder which one of them has a passion for art and interior design.

The question doesn't linger long. The moment you've kicked off your shoes Wonho is all over your face and body. You make it to the living room where his violent attack knocks down a painting.

He pins you to the wall and licks your neck. His firm chest is pressed against yours, and your hand glides inside his tight t-shirt.

You push it up his body, exposing his abs and lower back. He suddenly let's go of you to pull it all the way over his head.

His bare chest is pumping right in front of you. You put a hand on it and feel his strong muscles, and let it glide fast up and down his front. It feels amazing, warm and incredibly sexy.

Hyungwon has been lingering at a distance. He's watching you both with a smirk and great anticipation. He can't wait to get you naked, and now that his boyfriend is, he approaches to take his place.

He instantly grabs your crotch. He squeezes and massages it while breathing softly near your lips. You're so incredibly hard.

“Mmm,” you moan, and that's when Wonho can't take it any longer. Shirtless, he takes both you and Hyungwon by the arm, smile wide and reassuringly at you, and back away.

He pulls you into the bedroom, where Hyungwon throws himself onto his boyfriend and you all begin to undress. Carelessly, passionately, a lustful and rapid removal of clothes which become scattered on the floor.

It's time to do the threesome you all came here for.

*****

Wonho is on his knees on the bed in nothing but a pair of tiny underwear. He feels your naked body with his hands, squeeze your ass and thighs and size you up from top to bottom. He's quite satisfied with the catch he and his boyfriend have brought home from the bar.

You're on your side with Hyungwon's dick deep inside your mouth. He's on his side too, sucking you hard and skillfully. You trace his slim but muscular body with your hands while you pleasure each other in this reversed position.

You reach up to feel Wonho's hip above you. You pull the seams of his underwear and they slide down. He helps you release his dick, and you glance up at it to see what it looks like. When you first wanted to evaluate it in the bathroom at the bar you fought the urge to stare. Now, it's on full display and you love what both men are packing.

Hyungwon has noticed that his boyfriend wants in on the action. He lovingly stops sucking you and moves aside. He turns on his knees and lay down beside you. Meanwhile, Wonho is making his approach to you from above.

He leans in close over your body. You're still on your side, kissing Hyungwon's shoulder, when the full length of Wonho's body comes down on top of yours. He instantly starts to move his hips seductively, his dick brushing up and down your thigh.

“Mmm,” he moans when the dick presses harder against your skin. He humps you lustfully while you start to make out with his boyfriend.

Your three naked bodies are in a mess on the bed, and it feels incredibly hot.

*****

You're on your stomach on the bed, Wonho's muscular body pressing down on yours. His dick glides back and forth between your cheeks, until you briefly feel the weight of the broad man lift. You wait with anticipation as he lubes up his shaft and rubs some around the entrance of your hole. Then you feel the head of his dick as he slowly pushes it in, gradually expanding you from the inside.

You close your eyes and grimace. A brief pain is quickly replaced by one of pleasure as you get used to his size. He fills you up completely, his organ throbbing inside you.

The weight returns. His large chest rubs up and down your back and he wraps an arm around your side. He grinds against you, and the dick stats sliding in and out of you repeatedly.

His boyfriend, Hyungwon, is laying naked by your side, observing the whole thing with his mouth half open, exploring your body and Wonho's with his hand. He gently caresses your hip before he moves up to Wonho's clenching ass and lower spine.

Wonho has his eyes closed and buries his head in the sheets by your face. You feel the hot breaths on your neck as he pants shallowly onto your skin.

His cock feels great, so good the way it fills you. His embrace is heavy but gentle, causing your heart to beat a little faster. Hyungwon is a lucky guy.

You fuck like this for several minutes, until Wonho decides that it's his boyfriend's turn to have his way with you. He pulls up and out, and you moan when your hole releases the dick from its tight grip.

Wonho rolls off you and sits up beside you. Hyungwon gets ready to take his place, but before he can climb on top you push yourself onto your knees.

Hyungwon comes up behind you, where he sits on his kneecaps and takes a loving grip around your hips. Once again you wait in anticipation, while Wonho rubs lube onto Hyungwon's long and hard shaft.

The penetration feels easier, your hole loser and his size not as thick. The head slowly pushes through, and it feels like it just keeps going. It eventually hits the deepest wall of your cave, sending an intense pleasure through your body.

He fucks you slowly, pulling in and out with great focus. The head almost pops out, until the full length of the long shaft is swallowed again, and the process repeats over and over.

The couple starts to make out behind you. You can hear the sounds of their lips smacking together. You briefly feel Wonho's hand on your ass cheeks as he plays with the root of Hyungwon's shaft, and when the hand wanders to Hyungwon's ass the latter picks up the pace.

He begins to fuck you faster from behind. His fingers dig into your skin and the kissing sounds stop. They're replaced by a shallow panting, as Hyungwon starts chipping for air with each increasingly rapid thrust.

“Ahh, fuck,” you moan for their pleasure. “Yeah, fuck my ass.”

Hyungwon is turned on by your words. Wonho starts touching your back and shoulders. You spread your legs a little wider and bury your head in a pillow.

This is fucking great, you think and groan. You're so glad they found you at the bar and rescued you from the humiliation of a date who didn't show. This is so much better.

*****

Though Hyungwon clearly knows his way around an ass, it's obvious who is the dominant top and who is the power bottom in the relationship. While you lay on your side with your dick balls deep inside Hyungwon – who moans and squirms in your arms – Wonho is banging you lovingly from behind. You're sandwiched between them, enjoying both the sensation of Wonho's hard and thick dick filling you up, and Hyungwon's tight grip around your own shaft. It feels amazing.

Wonho is hugging you, his arm resting on your side while Hyungwon sucks his fingers. Hyungwon's back presses against your chest when Wonho pulls him closer. Your whole body is squeezed between them, and the dicks are pressed deeper inside their respective holes.

Wonho rocks his ass slowly back and forth. He lifts a knee and spreads his legs to penetrate you as deep as he possibly can. While he can't match Hyungwon's great reach, his cock can certainly pleasure you in other ways.

Your ass pushes repeatedly against his groin. Simultaneously, Hyungwon's moves back and forth against your own, as you push and pull on his hip.

“Ohh, fuuck,” Wonho groans behind you. You feel his lips against your neck.

“Mmm, mm,” Hyungwon moans while he takes the full length of his boyfriend's thumb in his mouth.

Your face is buried between his shoulder blades. Your nose is pressed against his smooth skin. And Wonho's pumped chest and soft stomach against your back feels like a warm embrace.

Wonho suddenly stiffens. He begins to jolt his hips and shove his cock faster inside you. The friction in your ass is enormously pleasurable.

“Wait,” you say to stop him from coming before it's too late. Actually, you're the one who's about to come in Hyungwon's ass, but you're not ready for that just yet.

Squeezed between the two men you can't see much of the action, only feel it. You're too intimate and up close for a good view. You want a better one before you release, to fully enjoy the immersive experience.

Wonho reacts to your word. He slows down and you can feel his muscles relax.

You gently push away from Hyungwon, who understands that you want to change positions and pulls away from you. Your dick falls out of his hole and as great as it made you feel to fuck him, the freedom feels like a welcomed relief.

“I wanna see you fuck,” you say to clarify why you called for a break.

Hyungwon turns around and smiles at you. He gives you a kiss on the lips, then leaps over your body while you scoot forward to give the couple more space.

Wonho catches his boyfriend in his arms and rolls on his back. When his dick pulls out of your ass your cheeks feel relaxed. Fuck he's big, you think happily.

The couple kiss and embrace as Hyungwon sits down on Wonho's crotch. Without penetration he rolls his hips, pressing his ass against the length of Wonho's shaft.

You turn around to watch them as Wonho takes a firm grip around his boyfriend's thighs and gives him a push. They roll over, and Hyungwon giggles when the large man comes down over him and attacks his neck with his mouth.

Hyungwon spreads his legs wide for his lover. Wonho sits up on his knees and reaches down to grab his dick. You scoot further away from them and lean on your elbow to watch them spring into action.

Their sex is wild and lustful. Hyungwon moans and jolts his body into Wonho's arms. Wonho pants and grunts loudly as he fucks his boyfriend with great passion missionary style.

“Mm, ahh, fuck yeah,” he repeats.

“Mmm, yes, yes,” Hyungwon whimpers below him.

You can hardly take your eyes off Wonho's ass and the back of his thighs. You watch the man roll and thrust skillfully, as he pushes his dick deep inside his boyfriend again and again. Holy shit this is hot!

You begin to stroke your shaft right next to them. Your eyes are wide open and your mind bewildered and amazed. The bed squeaks and the mattress slams against the frame, and all three of you shake back and forth as a result of the hot and violent sex.

You stroke your cock faster, bringing yourself ever closer to the edge. Wonho is about to go over his. Hyungwon hugs him tight and jams his hips and ass against Wonho's shaft and body, matching the pace and rhythm and giving Wonho's dick an immense pleasure.

“Ahh, uugh, ahhh, fuuuck!” Wonho bellows.

“Yes, yes, mm, I love you babe, ahhh, fuck my ass,” Hyungwon whimpers repeatedly.

Then comes the release. Wonho suddenly jerks forward, hard and deep. The rapid slamming of the bed against the wall immediately stops, and an intense orgasm shoots through his body which causes him to tense up and freeze.

"Uughn, fuuck!" he groans loudly.

“Pull out!” Hyungwon abruptly demands the moment he realizes what is happening.

For a split second you're confused as to why Hyungwon would requests that. But then you're glad that he did. Wonho quickly sits up straight, pulls his dick out of the ass, grabs it by the shaft, thrust his hip forward, and spurts a load onto his boyfriend's stomach.

“Uhhhm, aaahhh!” you suddenly cry, alerting the others to your own peak. You roll closer to their bodies and they turn their heads to look. Your cum shoots onto Wonho's thick thigh and the side of Hyungwon's narrow waist.

Wonho smiles at you when your eyes meet. He's breathing heavily and deeply, heaving for air as his spent body works hard to recover from exhaustion.

Only Hyungwon remains. And Wonho is a caring boyfriend. The moment he's sure that your release is over, he scoots backwards between his boyfriend's legs and bends down. He folds in half on his knees, and takes Hyungwon's long dick and shaft inside his mouth.

He sucks hard and skillfully while bobbing his head up and down. You look on as he wraps his lips tightly around the cock, and jerks the root of the soaked organ in circular motions with his hand and fingers.

Hyungwon closes his eyes and throws his head back on the bed. “Ahhh, fuck!” he cries while his boyfriend blows him. “Fu—uuck!”

His ass jolts upward from the bed, the shaft pushed deep into Wonho's throat. Wonho, in turn, lifts his head and plants his lips at the tip of the head.

The cum squirts out and onto his face. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth, cum dripping down his cheek and onto his tongue. His fingers become drenched in thick white liquid.

When Hyungwon opens his eyes again he looks down to view the result. He pants heavily then turns to face you. His strained expression turns into a happy one, as the intense sensation of your activity begins to settle.

*****

“Thanks,” you say while putting your shirt back on. You're dressed and ready to leave, recently emptied and happy.

“We should thank you,” Hyungwon says and laughs.

“Yeah,” Wonho concurs and smiles wide. “You were great.”

You smile at the couple as they lay naked and entangled on the bed, Wonho on his back and Hyungwon with his arm and leg wrapped around his boyfriend's broad body.

“Will you be at the bar again?” you ask but quickly regret it. It feels like a desperate question.

“Yes!” Hyungwon exclaims. “Definitely. But you don't need to find us there. You have our number.”

You give them a cheeky smile before you turn to head for the door. Your dick may be spent and balls may be empty, but your heart and mind are full.

He can go fuck himself, you think and recall your date who didn't show up. Little do you know that he's still sitting at the table where he saw you leave together with the Wonho and Hyungwon from Monsta X, star-struck by who you were with and thinking exactly the same thing.

[eseongsubs]

PDA | Lee Heeseung

word count: 1,078

format: drabble

a/n: I gave into those ugly fanfiction tumblr headers you guys…i’m so sorry to be assaulting your eyes with this basicness. I will be learning how to make headers for my series’ and plotted stories so you don’t have to stare at these nuisances. Anyway, I decided to start writing when I had an idea rather than when I want because I have the goal of being a more productive writer. I didn’t even want to write this, but I forced myself to because I know that sub!idol tumbler is sorrowfully dry, so. Enjoy. If you’ve got any requests or thirsts i will answer them. Like i said. I’m “Inspired.”

note: reader’s gender is not stated, implicitly or explicitly.

warnings: explicit cumshot, public blowjob…, sub!heeseung, dom!reader, uhmm thats it honestly.

Heeseung is not a “bad boy” by any means. Specifically, blowjobs in public have never been Lee's forte. He paints his nails black, sometimes, and he likes to wear a dark graphic tee with a silver chain every now and then, but, thats because it looks cool. And you always teased him for his sense of grandeur. No, Heeseung was a thoughtful man with a particular kindness and generosity that one can only learn. He doesn't have the guts, really, to be a “bad boy,” do the things "bad boys" do, only the foresight to be a well behaved one. He likes rewards, he likes praise, and he enjoys positive reinforcement. Negative talk makes him respond negatively, like a sorrowful golden pothos house plant. He needs sweet talk to keep him green and flourishing.

With that being said, today was an interesting mix of occurences that lead to your contemporary circumstances. 

You like the way that Heeseung’s long dancer legs tremble under your palms as you steady him, keeping him afloat amid the rolling waves of pleasure threatening him to collapse to the tiled restroom floor. His black skinny jeans slide down toward mid thigh, in a way that forces Hee to rear his butt off the bathroom wall, his dick in your awaiting mouth. It wasn’t tireless work, but rather a spur-of-the-moment decision you made out of your own curious lust. An inquisitive test to see just how much your boyfriend would let you get away with. 

“Ooh…” A curling pout expresses your heeseung’s pleasure across his face, as wobbly in stature as his thighs are, trying to hold his composure steady for you, not alert any outside passersby as to what was occurring inside this little single-person family bathroom. “Feels…feels really good” Heeseung concedes, his pink nose from the cold winter temperatures sniveling, his beanie slipping off toward the left direction of his head – your right – revealing the fluffy and mussed black shimmer of his hair. His praise is unprompted, so you smile, pulling off of his shaft and stroking it with an entire glove-clad palm. Hee’s hips twitch upward. 

“Why thank you, sweetheart. That’s so nice.” The ennuncuiation of your last two words was devastatingly intentional. Heeseung’s whole body shudders. He loves to feel like a sweet man for you. The praise sinks in deep to his skin, like a needle. You lave your tongue over his tip again, not taking him fully into your mouth this time just to watch him squirm, build up the peak in his balls already beginning to squeeze to completion. 

Like you said, Heeseung wasn’t one for public…service. He was too respectful, and a bit too believing in the rhetoric of “obedience in advance.” Conform to the wants of others, or any institution, and you will escape punishment, if you’re good enough. Unfortunately, that logic wasn’t real. Not with you, when you punish Heeseung for your own enjoyment, twisting his actions and behaviours into an excuse to watch him squirm under your cruelty, and not with the law either. But today, your boyfriend had been a bit too caught up in your lips, and pathetically eager to please. He followed your word like Mogli under the trance of that snake, in Jungle Book. Yes master, no master, I’ll do anything you say, master. Quite the perfect storm. 

“Oh– ngh…Oh! N-no, no…” you ignored Heeseung’s mutterings to himself. His head, shifting back-and-forth, pushing his hat further off of his head. His obedient hands, attempting with fail to grip onto the tile walls, squeezing into defeated fists. Your lips wrap about his tip, finally, sucking with little force, before sliding down his cock further and driving gratified whimpers from your Hee’s mouth. Whimpers that interrupt the low mewls he has already been unable to cage away. You push-and-pull your tongue on the underside of his cock with each stroke. One of Heeseung’s hands tug at the fingers of your right arm, interlacing yours with his as a surprised moan slips from you, replaced with a satisfied hum. Not a “bad boy” bone in his polite body. 

Another surprise sneaks up on you as Heeseung whispers, trying his absolute best not to shout. “I’m cumming!” Hee weeps, grabbing your hair with his second unoccupied hand as his pleasure converges into a delightful sight, yanking you off of his dick. First, his stomach tenses, then his balls, then the abused tip of his cock throbs as he releases string after string across the bathroom floor, your hair, cheeks, nose, and lips. Some even lands on your eyelashes, as his grippable hips surge forward in a euphoric blaze. Heeseung’s eyes don’t squeeze shut all the way, just into pretty little crescents, so he can watch with effort as he showers you in his release. You, on your knees, before him. “Oh god, I’m cumming…” he pules weakly again, his final droplets of spunk dripping from his defiled tip. You grin again. 

“Couldn’t wait?” you inquire, Heeseung’s head fallen completely forward as his muscles spasm, still swimming in pleasure and the aftermath of it. His beanie makes the quietest, softest plat as it hits the ground, like a sewing needle hitting the floor makes a soft clang. 

“I’m so sorry” Heeseung’s hand holding yours shakes in your embrace, his other hand relenting its hold on your hair. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to cum in your mouth without permission.”

You ignore, of course, that he could have subsided from cumming at all without permission. But, Heeseung didn’t like to cum in public, so, you decided it could be his reward. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby. You did a really good job.” Your lips meet Hee’s knee with a smooch, patting your mark with a frsiky grin. “Now lets get me cleaned up.” 

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabi & shouto bonding + dabihawks, fluff

It's almost noon when Touya comes shuffling into the living room he shared with his boyfriend, PJ pants hanging low on his hips, no shirt in sight.

"Well, good mo-, no wait, good midday to me, handsome," Keigo quipped with a grin and Touya rolled his eyes.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a lazy bum, I know I know," Touya replied with a yawn and a stretch.

"We can't all just call home office and lunge around in sweats all day and call it work, yanno," he added and Keigo laughed.

"So staying up until 3 am gaming with Spinner and Tenko counts as work, now?" the hero asked with a sly smirk, and Touya sighed.

"I need a shirt for this conversation, and either their all in the wash or you stole some again, and I think we all know which one is true."

Keigo raised his eyebrows at that.

"I haven't taken any more than you've given me, I swear!" he said with hands raised in surrender, and Touya sighed dramatically.

"Well, what am I supposed to wear then?"

-

Listen, Touya loves Keigo.

Everything about him, actually.

Except for the fact that, ever since the war ended and the hero was allowed to develop his own style, that style turned out to be a mix between cottage core lesbian and confused grandpa.

Actually Touya didn't mind it when the clothes were on Keigo, he actually kinda loved it.

But while Keigo looked ridiculously hot in Touya's band shirts and big hoodies, Touya didn't quite have that same luxury.

So, there he sat, in a crowded coffee shop, a busy afternoon, out in public, with his white hair, scarred skin, piercings, tattoos, ripped black skinny jeans and... a very eclectically colored cardigan Touya suspected Keigo had dug out of a thrift store that should have been closed decades ago.

Yeah, fuck his life.

Just as the former villain pulled the bucket hat he had also borrowed from his boyfriend further down on his head in a vain attempt to hide he noticed the person he was here to meet come in trough the door.

"Shouto," Touya said out loud, raiding his hand to grab his brothers attention.

His dork of a younger brother smiled, as brightly as he ever did, and moved over to Touya quickly.

"Nii-san!" The young hero greeted and Touya huffed.

"Yeah yeah, sit down ya dork, I ordered you your..."

Touya's voice trailed off as Shouto took off his jacket.

"Todoroki Shouto, are you wearing my fucking shirt?!"

Shouto looked up at him with a hint of surprise on his face as he looked down on himself , before he nodded.

"Yes, it appears that I am," he said simply before happily taking a sip of his bubble tea.

Touya just stared at him.

"Why?" he finally asked as Shouto didn't elaborate.

Shouto took his time enjoying his tea before he answered.

"It's like a hand-over, it's normal for brothers to do, you know?" he replied with a shrug.

Touya blinked a few times trying to catch up.

"A hand... over?" he finally asked, trying his best to wrap his head around this.

He decided this was a bucket hat off situation, and just as he placed the hat down, Shouto picked ip back up and put in on his head.

"Like this, see?" the young hero said as if that answered all the questions.

Touya just stared back and Shouto sighed.

"Iida said he used to get his older brothers stuff all the time, Nii-san, I really think you're making too much out of this."

Oh.

Oh, god.

This poor, clueless, sweet bastard.

"You're talking about hand-me-downs, aren't you?" Touya finally asked, and Shouto nodded.

"Yes, that was the phrase."

Touya bit his lip, trying to figure out how to go about this without being too mean.

Look at him, all reformed and shit.

"Look Sho, I get that we have a lot of catching up to do, but if you want my stuff as hand-me-downs or whatever it'd be great if you asked first, okay?" Touya explained.

Shouto hummed.

"I must have misunderstood the tradition then, I apologize."

Touya huffed.

"It's okay, kid," he said with a small smile, and Shouto smiled back, before his gaze fell to the cardigan Touya was wearing and his brown furrowed.

"You can keep that one, though," Shouto said seriously, and Touya couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Yeah, I don't judge ya there, kid," he replied with a grin.

Before they parted ways a few hours later Touya quickly snapped a picture of Shouto in the bucket hat to send to Keigo with a warning that he'd probably never seen that hat again.

It was handed down now, after all.

[lovinglylibelle]

—𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩 { pt. 3 }

pt1 || pt2 || pt4

masterlist || navigation

moodboards will be posted after the series<3

✧. GOJO SATORU

Okay we all know that he is a diva but actually he doesn't try to be. I know its shocking but somehow whatever he wears, he serves.

He knows he looks good and whats worse is that he knows how to make himself look even better. it just comes to him naturally.

firmly believes that the reason Megumi is able to dress well is because of his influence (he is so obsessed with himself istg)

Has a very very diverse style, wears whatever looks good on him.

Usually its a button up with trousers and a belt to accentuate his thin waist. Such a show off

Likes the color: white, beige, light purplish-blue, gray and black. Thinks they looks the most classy and decent out of all. i agree with him.

Also wears colours like olive green, dusty rose etc but very rarely.

Has a lot of sunglasses obviously, circle ones, oval ones and etc etc. Got them in various colors too, matches them according to his outfit or just wears his signature black round glasses.

WILL ALWAYS have the top two buttons undone showing his cleavage, and his sleeves rolled up to show his forearm muscles. Such a *****

Wears silver accessories cause they compliment his skin tone. Mainly wears a watch just for the vibes. sometimes wears rings too, says it brings attention to his humongous hands.

Sometimes wears normal shirts, when he is going for something more casual (its very rare because he LOVES to be overdressed for every occassion,)

He is very extra and even in simple outfits, he looks extra.

In winters, he wears coats, trench coats, normal coats whatever.

AND HIGHNECKS OMGGGGGGGG

OH AND, he actually quite likes wearing coats. Oversized coats with trousers and plain tees is something he loves but won't admit it cause he doesn't want to clash with NANAMI out of everyone in the world.

✧. GETO SUGURU

Resident Badboy™

Bro loves Black and only black, will not be caught dead with any other color in existence except for maybe charcoal or gray or a different shade of black.

Has a very weird sense of style honestly but manages to pull it off, pairs traditional outfits with western stuff somehow.

You know those bosozoku style of clothes that the toman gang wore, he has a lot of pants that look like that. Only the pants.

Wears button up shirts, black obviously along with that and other bottoms that he has.

He wears leather jackets. Again, a signature bad boy thing. He has a lot of different styles of those, some have multiple zippers, some have a lot of buckles, some are just plain and some have patches etc etc.

Has an emo typa vibe going, i mean he is sorta emo so

Would wear tattoo sleeves when he is wearing short sleeves or sleeveless things.

OMG WAIT, HE LOVESSSSSS to wear black tanktops.His muscles look so delicious in those and with that sexy manbun of his KTKSJTIDI AAA

Has a lot of puffer jackets and crew necks for winter.

OKAY SO HE ALSO WEARS THOSE LEATHER GLOVES that bikers wear. ones without the fingers. why the fuck do i keep making his hotter.

CHAINS. yes he wears a lotttttt of chains, some are religious totems, some are things that his daughters gave him. Dont be surprised if you find a cute little pink bow necklace hanging in the middle of silver chains lmao.

Wears those oversized cargos, yk the baggy jeans (nct). He also wears skinny jeans sometimes and somehow pulls them off. They are the bad type of skinny jeans,l thankfully.

Also has trousers for formal occassions or when he is taking his daughter out for dinner in restaurants.

taglist 🏷️: send an ask to be added.

[lihhelsing]

Hate That I Loved You

Now complete on AO3!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ↓ | Part 5 | Part 6

Despite Eddie's wishes, everything just keeps on moving.

In a way, it's a little comforting to know that no matter how badly Eddie fucks up, life keeps going. It kept going when Lou almost broke him, it kept going every time he dumped someone or got dumped. It kept going when his mom passed away in the middle of the European leg of their tour. 

It kept moving when he and Steve stopped walking in the same direction. 

Eddie sits in his dressing room, waiting for his make-up to be finished. He barely slept during the night, a mix of anxiousness and fear of whatever was to come.

Eddie wants to talk to Steve and clear the air and explain that what he had seen the night before wasn't what he thought it was. There's nothing between him and Lou. Not anymore. 

It's not like he thinks Steve still wants something with him. He's not delusional or anything, knows Steve is doing this only as a favor to him and nothing more. But he's done hurting Steve, needs to put an end to all this once and for all. 

There was no time in between the band finishing up their part of the music video at around 3am and the super early call time they all had for the last day of shooting. When he got there, Eddie got dragged to wardrobe and make-up and had no time to even look for Steve.

He hoped Steve hadn't bailed because of whatever it was that he thought he saw last night, but if he had, they would most likely know by now. Probably. 

But to be completely honest, Eddie doesn't even realize he's holding his breath in anticipation until the moment he lay eyes on Steve again. 

Eddie gets into the studio all ready for the shooting. His clothes are a perfect match to what he used to wear back then, right before Corroded Coffin made it big. A sleeveless CC shirt with ripped skinny jeans. Always black. Chains and rings and a leather jacket on top of everything. 

It feels even weirder once he gets a good look at it. The studio had been completely modified and now he can see a perfect representation of his uncle’s old trailer. The place where he made most of the music for their first album. 

The place where he fell in love with Steve.

But now that Eddie is really looking at it, he can see only half of the trailer. The other half is actually the recording studio where they had made their first album. 

Half and half, torn in the middle, just like Eddie had been back then. Unable to choose between life with Steve and the band. 

Whenever Eddie was with Steve, his brain was thinking music and lyrics and chords. He itched to put his hands on a guitar, to take notes, to write. 

Then, when he was with the band, he kept thinking about Steve, missing him, missing his touch and his kiss and-

“Hey,” Steve’s voice sounds unsure, like he had tried getting Eddie’s attention more than once. 

“Hi. Sorry, it’s… Weird being back here,” Eddie says and Steve gives him a soft smile which… Don't seem like a bad thing.

“Yeah. Brings back a lot of memories,” Steve agrees and motions forward as if he’s going to touch Eddie’s arm. 

But then the director is calling their names and asking if they are ready and Steve drops his hand, turning away from him. 

“Can we, uh, talk? After? I really wanted to explain what you saw yesterday.” 

Steve shakes his head. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Eddie.” 

“No, I know. But I want to. If you… Please?” 

Steve looks over at him and there’s this unreadable thing about his expression that tugs at Eddie’s heart. He needs him to say yes. Needs him to listen to him. He needs to still have a chance. 

“Yeah, ok,” Steve says finally and Eddie can barely react before they are being directed to their places for the shoot. 

They have both the places that tore Eddie apart, and they are separated by a thick glass. Steve is standing on one side, a symbol of Eddie’s past life, the one he left behind when he started to pursue a life in music. 

The other is all his dreams coming true. Everything that he ever wanted becoming real. Back then, Eddie thought Steve didn’t fit in it. Steve didn’t feel he fit in. He never made Eddie choose, but soon it became clear Eddie wouldn’t be able to balance the two things at the same time for long.

He’d be away too much. And Steve needed him near. Wanted him there and Eddie wasn’t there. They fought, screamed at each other out of frustration and heartbreak. 

Eddie wanted to stay and he knew he needed to leave, but he only found courage to do it when Steve told him he didn’t see a future for them, that Eddie should put his chips on something more certain. 

He realized that day he would never be enough for Steve. He was splitting himself in half for him, trying to make everyone happy, and even then he was failing. Couldn't get things right.

The day he walked away, Eddie felt like his heart was going to give in. And he feels that way again as he looks into Steve’s eyes and sings how he hates that he loved him. 

There's this glass in between them and Eddie can't get through. No matter how loud he sings, no matter how much he tries, he can't have it all. He starts to wonder how much different his life would be if he had bet on his relationship with Steve. 

Wonders if he would've been happy with any other job. Maybe he would have become a music teacher somewhere. Have a white picket fence house with three cats and Steve. Maybe that would've been enough for him. 

Or maybe he'd resent Steve, like he always said he would. Every time Eddie missed something related to the band because Steve, he said that. Like Eddie couldn't make his own decisions. 

He knocks on the glass as Steve walks around the trailer with his back to Eddie. He wants to reach him, but he can't, and suddenly there's this suffocating need to tell him everything. To tell Steve how he feels. 

It's not past tense. His feelings for Steve never went anywhere, always there, always alive. He needs him to know. Even if Steve doesn't feel the same anymore, he's sure Steve has moved on from their thing a long time ago. He just needs him to know. 

Maybe back then it wasn't time for him and Steve, but maybe now it can be.

[horrificshit]

Limits.

Dom!Lou miller x Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, dumbification, strap on?, daddy kink, age gap

A/N: I decided to write this in a first person point-of-view. Why? Don’t ask me.

Words: 1.8k

Ding!

The sound of my phone going off. Curiosity peaks, I pick up my phone, revealing who messaged me:

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “Hey baby, I’m out doing some errands, can you be dressed by the time I’m home?”

Oh? Why does she want me dressed? Maybe we’re going somewhere fancy? Surely not.. Surprisingly, going to places which require dressing up for are a rare occurrence.

I shoot a text back, giving a response to Lou’s message.

You: “Okay! Should I dress fancy?”

Lou💕: “Yes, you’ll see why once I’m home 😉”

I get up from my once cave-like spot in the king size bed, giving up the warmth of the bedsheets. The room is quite cold due to the crispness of the winter weather in late January.

Speed walking to the closet, I sift through a number of dresses; all of different colors, lengths, patterns, and materials.

a long sleeve dress was obviously the ethical choice given the weather, but a short, skintight dress seemed more ethical in my opinion. Who cares about being cold when id feel like the sexiest girl in the room?

My eyes land on a white satin dress. I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one. Where did I get it again? Maybe from high school prom.

Bleh. Prom. I always hated prom. And evidently, I only went that one time. Brian Richards, the boy I went with, he ended up being a huge duche.

Whatever.

I slip on the dress, and— oh my god. I could literally fuck myself. The dress, it hugs all my curves in all the right places. My collar bones stick out and I find that extremely sexy, and hopefully Lou will think the same.

Shoes.

Grab a pair of white heels. Not to tall, not too short.

My jewelry is dainty. a gold necklace with a small heart. So small in-fact, you can hardly see it. Large gold pearl earrings accompany the necklace.

I trot over to my vanity, gathering a few products: primer, concealer, blush, highlighter, mascara, and lipgloss. Simple, yet bold.

My hair lies in a simple half-up-half-down with, of course, a white bow in the back.

And, just as I get finished, I hear that familiar ding of my phone, notifying me that Lou must be here for me. I check my phone, and to my expectation, I see an incoming message from the older woman.

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “I’m here. Take your time, the reservation isn’t until 6:30.”

Smiling, I put my phone down and take a look in the mirror. Hopefully she likes it as much as I do.

I grab my small brown purse and take yet another look in the mirror, giving one last check before going out the door to greet my girlfriend.

Overall outfit:

I walk toward Lou’s sports car, the cold nipping me in the butt. Literally and figuratively. I sort of regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but whatever, I look amazing.

Lou unlocks the car door, and I enter the vehicle. She looks like she’d seen a ghost from how she was looking at me. Did I look that good?

Her eyes rake up my entire body, stopping at my lips. I smile, flattered and proud of myself that I indeed, do look that good.

“Where are we going?” I inquire, still having not been told why I had to get all dolled up. “Somewhere fancy.” Chuckles Lou, already having naughty thoughts.

She takes the initiative to reach her hand over and grasp onto my thigh. I squeak, not being prepared for her to touch me, but relax a few seconds later.

Some time goes by and I decide to take in what Lou herself is wearing:

She wears a black turtleneck top, a black leather jacket atop. Black skinny jeans, the type that hug her curves, or in reality, her ass, in the most perfect way.

In correlation with the rest of her outfit, she wears black heeled boots. And of course, in typical Lou fashion, her plethora of necklaces lay on top of her chest.

The car stops, and the older woman squeezes my thigh, silently letting me know she’s going to let go, and that we’ve arrived at the final destination.

“We’re here,” Lou says with a smirk. I look up and see a restaurant with a name I cannot even pronounce. At least without stuttering that is. The restaurant looked exclusive; like we weren’t allowed in. But, according to my girlfriend, we are.

We both get out of the car, and I immediately am reminded of how cold it is outside. Lou takes notice of my shivering, and ushers me inside of the restaurant.

The girl in the front greets Lou and I. “Hello, welcome to Novitá, do you have a reservation?”

Lou grabs her phone, pulling up a digital receipt. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but the world changes everyday, I suppose.

“Here,” Lou shows the girl the receipt, looking back at me with a smile.

“If it doesn’t work, my reservation should be under the name Lou Miller.”

She types in her name and smiles back, grabbing two menus. “This way,” we’re leaded to our table, which Lou previously reserved days before.

We both order our drinks, champagne for myself, whilst Lou opts for an ‘old fashioned’, or in other words, whiskey, sugar, and water.

She obviously has a stronger tolerance to alcohol than I do, because I could never handle the extreme burn of whiskey going down my throat. Other things maybe, but definitely not that.

The drinks arrive, and the girl from before, who, upon reading her name tag, appears to be Arabella.

She takes our orders, and apologizes for any delays, the restaurant appears to be quite busy. I look around and take note of the ‘noble looking’ people surrounding the table we’re sat at. We don’t look nearly as rich as them.

“Y/N? What do you want to order?” I’m snapped out of my trance by Lou and brought back into reality. I look at her, and back down at the menu that rests in my hands. ‘Gnocchi di Patate’. That sounds delicious. But wait, $34.99?? How is she getting all of this money?

I open my mouth after some time and tell the waitress what I want. She writes it down, and tells us it may be a while, and to enjoy our drinks.

“So,” Lou starts. She rubs her foot up my leg, making me squirm slightly at the feeling. “I thought you deserved a treat for being such a good girl.”

I look into her eyes. Completely blown out. I can’t help but the small smirk on my face, knowing all to well how this will end: with me bent over,screaming her name, her hand muffling the noise.

“Are you not gonna say anything? Daddy paid a lot of money for this, I think I deserve to at least hear your voice.” I look down, not being able to carry out the eye contact. She continues to rub my leg underneath the table. Good thing there’s a satin mat, covering the whole length of the table, down to the floor.

“I-“ words weren’t an option at this point. My mind is far too small at the moment to even comprehend anything else but the husky voice of the older woman across from me.

“What? Cats got your tongue?,” She starts, staring at me like she’s the predator and I’m her delicious little prey.

“,or are you just too dumb to use your words?” Continues Lou, sending me into a serene headspace. My mind is completely blank, besides the vision of the woman across from me.

TIME SKIP

We finish up with our food, no words being exchanged between Lou and I. Just her speaking to me. Telling me that she thinks I’m beautiful, though some ways more appropriate than others.

The check arrives and she pulls out her platinum card, swiping it. I can’t help but feel bad that she spent that much on me, between the cost of my drink, and the food.

“You ready?” She inquired.

“Mhm.”

I appear to be shy, but in reality, I’m extremely horny. She’s been teasing me all night, and I just know that there’s more in store. If not at home, she’s likely to get impatient and do her business in the car.

Buckling into the car seat, she revs up the engine. I look up at her, smiling innocently with my signature doe eyes. Unlike my own, her eyes are completely blown out. She’s more that ready to pounce when given the chance. Pounce being her having her way with me; not that I’d have a problem with that.

Lou’s hand once again finds its spot on my thigh, where it remains for the duration of the car ride, occasionally feeling a squeeze every now and then.

“I really don’t like how quiet you’re being,” Lou confronts, the once silent car ride no longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

I just can’t get any words out. Even if I were to try, the only thing that’ll come out is a string of whimpers and sounds. Words just aren’t an option at this moment.

Then, the whirring of the car’s engine stops, Her key taken out of the fob. Lou turns to me, hands still on my body.

“Baby. Did I do something? Daddy would feel terrible if she hurt her baby.” Her hands wander up my legs, stopping at the end of my dress.

Soft hands caress my calf, smiling as she knows what she’s doing.

“Lou.. not in the car…” I say in an extremely small voice, the headspace Lou has created for me completely taking over my mind.

“Fine,” she opens the car door, walking to my side, opening the door for me. “Inside. I want you on the bed, stripped.” The older woman said in her husky voice.

Once we made it up to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and I made a b-line to the bedroom.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I slip off my dress and take off my shoes, revealing a matching white lingerie set:

Climbing on top of Lou’s bed, I wait patiently for her return.

“I guess you are a good girl then,” Lou says, the door slowly creeping open. “, and I see you’re wearing my present.”

Lou bought me this set a while back to celebrate her and Debbie’s successful heist. I’ve never been a huge fan of her job, but she enjoys it, so I can’t see a problem with that.

Slow steps, excruciatingly slow, inch their way toward me. “Nothing to say, huh?” Now crawling on top of me, I can’t help but let out a small whine.

Lou chuckles at my pathetic sound, enjoying the power she has against me and my body.

“You know,” The older woman starts, huskily. “I wish I could get you to tell me what’s up.”I want to speak; say something, anything, but I know the only thing that would come out is my silent pleas, and a string of cries.

She scoffs at my silence. My eyes are burning from the tears that threaten to fall, my mind and body so sexually frustrated. “I suppose we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”